The Riverlord's Daughter
by redcandle
Summary: A normal evening at Riverrun for nine year old Catelyn Tully.


Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and elements from A Song of Ice and Fire belong to George R.R. Martin. No copyright infringement is intended.

Father was away visiting Seagard so the high table was not set tonight. Brynden Blackfish preferred to eat with his men and Cat preferred to eat with her uncle. Lord Hoster had told her he trusted his lady to see to the castle while he was gone and Cat had been doing her duty all day. She wanted a respite from being lady of the castle, but her father's new ward Petyr Baelish followed her, and Lysa followed him even though she usually complained to Cat about the knights' crude talk and poor table manners.

Uncle Brynden gave Cat a brief smile and touched her head before turning his attention back to Ser Robin's account of the time he brought down a wild aurochs by himself. Cat helped herself to a chicken leg and cut pieces of meat for the younger children. And because she could, she poured herself a cup of watered-wine. She didn't give any of that to Lysa and Petyr though, despite their pleading looks.

Ser Lucas was already in his cups and he began to brag about a crofter's wife he'd bedded recently. "Teats as big as your head, I'm telling you," he said. Cat knew he was married and his young wife was heavy with child, but no one appeared surprised by his exploits.

"Wat's wife?" Ser Desmond scoffed. "That sow?"

Ser Lucas ignored him. "And what an arse! The way it shook when…"

Uncle Brynden noticed Lysa and Petyr listening with wide eyes. "Enough of that talk, Lucas. There are children present."

The knight squinted at Cat. "My apologies, my lady."

"I'm sure no offense was meant, ser," Catelyn said graciously, though she was not one of the children the Blackfish had been referring to. She was nearly ten, almost a woman grown. Her septa would say such talk was not fit for a woman's ears either, but the men's stories fascinated her. Their tales of battles and common women and other men's misdeeds were more detailed than the songs and livelier than the maester's lessons.

Further down the long table, a pair of guardsmen arguing over gambling debts came to blows. Instead of separating them, their friends cheered them on. Petyr ran for a closer look, the first time he'd willingly left her side in weeks. Cat had jested to her sister that Petyr would sleep with them if he could, but Lysa had actually liked the thought. She'd even asked Father if he could, but luckily Father had said no.

When the drunken combatants had been sent from the hall to cool off and sober up and it was relatively quiet again, Uncle Brynden realized his nieces had long finished their meal and suggested it was time for bed.

"Not yet," Cat begged.

"Not yet," Lysa echoed.

"Tell us about the war," Cat suggested. "Please, uncle."

"Why don't you tell them about the time you and Lord Hoster stood in the middle of a river arguing about the best place to ford across," Ser Desmond said, smiling.

The Blackfish gave in, laughing, and began to recount the story. Cat listened raptly. She squeezed her sister's arm to silence her when she heard Lysa and Petyr whispering and giggling. Father had told her this story once when he'd tucked her into bed, but his version had been different.

"I'd caught three trout by the time Hoster finally stopped talking," Uncle Bryden finished. "And now you three find your beds."

Cat didn't try to argue this time. Lysa's head had fallen on her shoulder and Petyr was yawning. Cat hugged her uncle and wished him a good night.

Petyr insisted on escorting her and Lysa safely to their bed chamber, although his room was two floors below theirs and he would have to climb back downstairs. His boyish attempt at gallantry made Cat smile. She kissed him on the cheek when they'd reached their destination. "Sweet dreams, Petyr."

When Petyr had floated away grinning ear to ear, Cat left Lysa with an admonition to rinse her mouth before she went to sleep, and walked down the corridor to the nursery. She kissed little Edmure, careful not to wake him. It was late, but she wasn't ready to go to bed.

Her lord father's chambers were at the top of the tower. Cat chewed her lip for a moment before heading there. She went out onto the balcony and stared up at the starry sky. Then she closed her eyes and listened to the rushing of the river far below her.


End file.
